


Kneel

by EchoingInfinite



Category: JUDGE EYES: 死神の遺言 | Judgment
Genre: Choking, Consensual Non-Consent, Dubious Consent, Humiliation, M/M, Power Imbalance, Rape Play, Starts off as rape play but quickly becomes dubcon, Verbal Humiliation, Violence, not safe or sane
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-10 13:01:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20528453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoingInfinite/pseuds/EchoingInfinite
Summary: Kuroiwa wants to see him fight back. Wants to hear him cry and beg. Wants to pin him down while he struggles. Wants to ruin him.Alternatively:Kuroiwa gets off on the thought of Hamura denying him. He wants Hamura to act like a victim and fight like his life depends on it.Which may be the case, because this is Kuroiwa they’re talking about so Hamura commits to his acting part, however humiliating it may be.





	Kneel

**Author's Note:**

> So I was inspired by a friend to try to write CNC. 
> 
> Hamura is generally fine with Kuroiwa fucking him. Just not too big on the roleplay part of it, which is why it’s tagged dubious consent.
> 
> I’ve never wrote CNC before, it probably shows but constructive criticism is always welcome 💕
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

Kuroiwa made a habit of visiting Hamura when he wanted. It’s been like that for years. Kuroiwa would seek Hamura out, looking to discuss their clients, strategies, etc...

It was something Kuroiwa did in the early years of their partnership. He’d appear suddenly, and invite himself in, like he knew when Hamura was alone and the best time to approach him.

Hamura just grew used to it.

Mostly though, Kuroiwa sought Hamura out when he wanted to blow off some steam or because of his enthusiasm at how well a recent job had been.

To say Kuroiwa enjoys his little side job would be an understatement. He’ll murder someone and he then comes here, hard as a rock, cause Hamura is convenient.

There is no affection in their partnership. Merely business, but with some benefits.

Tonight, dressed in his police uniform, and wearing those gloves he likes so much, Kuroiwa hasn’t come with a hard-on, or plans involving their target or information from their client. He has brought his blackjack, now discarded on the sofa, but that’s all. Hamura knows how hard that thing hurts and in Kuroiwa’s hand, it’s downright deadly.

The room is simple. A desk to do paperwork at and a sofa. It’s served them both well in the years, located in a run down area of the city, a building no one would look twice at.

He’s curious as to what Kuroiwa is up to, but also rather nervous. Regardless of how long he has known Kuroiwa, the man still has him on edge. He wonders if Kuroiwa has thought he has outlived his usefulness and was going to off him. With this guy, you can never be sure what he’s thinking.

Instead, Kuroiwa surprises him.

“I want to try something new with you.” Kuroiwa began, his eyes alight with amusement. Not amused enough to crack a smile.

“Something new?” Hamura was curious now. He eyed the blackjack on the sofa.

“That’s not part of my plan.” Kuroiwa answered for him, “Though if the situation calls for it..”

“Situation?” Hamura realises there was agitation creeping into his voice. He just wanted Kuroiwa to come out with it.

“It would involve a little resistance.” Kuroiwa continued and he reminded Hamura of a cat playing with its food, with the way he was working around the question, like he wanted Hamura to keep guessing.

Resistance? Hamura thought.

“You want to hold me down?” Hamura tried.

Kuroiwa laughed, “It would involve holding you down, yes.”

“Tie me down?” Hamura tried again.

“I certainly wouldn’t be against that, but it may ruin the fun I have in mind.” Kuroiwa replied, and yet again, he avoids telling Hamura exactly what it is he wants from him.

Take your best guess, Hamura-san, he could imagine Kuroiwa saying.

The more Hamura thought about it, the less sense it made. Kuroiwa hasn’t approached him like this before, seemingly asking for permission to do whatever he wanted to do.

No, he wasn’t asking permission. He was daring Hamura to deny him. Like he knew he could do whatever he wanted to Hamura, when he wanted to. Regardless of what Hamura wanted. He'd take and take, if he desired.

Kuroiwa has done it before. Summoned Hamura, or came to visit him out of the blue, pushed Hamura down on the nearest solid and sturdy surface, or pushed him hard against the wall, and fucked him as hard, or gentle, as he saw fit.

It’s not rape. Never rape. Hamura wouldn’t fight or deny Kuroiwa, because he wanted it. Every single time, he wanted it. Kuroiwa has done things to him no one else could claim to, has seen him fall apart in ways no one else would, marked him like he owned him. Their entire 'relationship' is fucked up, Hamura knows that, but this is how it’s been for a long time.

Hamura may have taken the lead during their first few trysts, but eventually there was a shift in Kuroiwa’s attitude. Like he was unsatisfied with bending his knee to Hamura so often. He switched things around, holding Hamura down and taking him. At the time, Hamura wasn’t used to being the submissive one. That role was better reserved for his partner, but there was an excitement alight in him when Kuroiwa suddenly took control and fucked him like he was some common bitch. 

Back then, that should have been a warning sign. Might have spared him some of the shit he’s been through at Kuroiwa’s hand the past few years.

“Fight me.” Kuroiwa stated, continuing when Hamura blinked, “Say you don’t want it, beg me to stop, fight back.”

Hamura let that sink in. Kuroiwa wants him to fight back while he fucks him? He wants him to beg and say he doesn’t want it? Hamura wasn’t naive. He knew what Kuroiwa was asking. He wanted Hamura to play the part of a terrified victim and act like he was getting raped. He had heard of rape role play but hadn’t expected Kuroiwa to ask this of him.

If he was going to role play, he wasn’t keen on being the crying victim, but one look at Kuroiwa’s face told him this wasn’t a joke. Especially his eyes. They’re normally cold, and have a dangerous glimmer in them but there was something else there. He doesn’t quite know how to describe it but there’s a level of intensity in his eyes that is truly unsettling.

Hamura shook his head, suddenly wanting to put more distance between him and Kuroiwa, “I knew you were fucked up but this-“

What he got for his attitude and smart mouth was his head slammed hard against the table behind him, hard enough to make him dizzy. Kuroiwa closed the distance between them so quickly. Always treating everything he does with the same quick, careful and methodical attitude. He could snap Hamura’s neck without a second thought. From the way he was now laid out on the table, Kuroiwa leaned over him from his side.

Kuroiwa’s grip on the front of his neck was tight, his other hand coming up to squeeze his throat as well, cutting his breathing off. As much as he hates admitting it, the panic had set in upon feeling Kuroiwa grip his throat with such a murderous intent. Already dizzy from the rough treatment, Hamura’s lack of air was only adding to his disorientation. He reached up and gripped Kuroiwa’s wrists, trying to pull them away.

By fighting back, he was giving Kuroiwa exactly what he wanted, but it was more out of reflex to save his own skin rather than humour Kuroiwa’s fantasy.

“Surely you can do better than that.” Kuroiwa sneered, squeezing Hamura’s throat tighter causing the man to choke violently. Hamura’s hands were fumbling now, trying to pound Kuroiwa’s chest in an effort to get the hands off his neck but his punches were pathetically weak and Kuroiwa paid his feeble struggling no mind, simply tightening his grip even more.

A pathetic croak escaped Hamura’s lips, a desperate attempt to inhale some air or to beg Kuroiwa to stop. He hates that he is already thinking of bending to Kuroiwa’s will, but he doesn’t want to die, and especially not at Kuroiwa’s hand. 

He’d betray anyone else, if it meant staying on Kuroiwa’s good side.

Kuroiwa leaned closer, “Not so clever now.”

Hamura tried aiming a punch at Kuroiwa’s face once he leaned in close, but Kuroiwa avoided it like it was nothing. The grip on his throat tightened again, sure to leave bruises.

With the position Kuroiwa was currently standing, Hamura couldn’t reach him if he tried to kick and now, his vision was darkening. He pounded his fists against Kuroiwa’s arms, the display amusing Kuroiwa. He could hear him chucking.

Is this really how he’s gonna die, choked out by this fucking psychopath cause he refused to play along?

He could feel his eyes closing when the grip on his throat was suddenly gone. Hamura wheezed and coughed, a hand coming up to his throat to grasp it. He drew in breath after breath, before finally opening his eyes to look up at Kuroiwa.

The other man was still leaning over him, his arms caging Hamura in against the desk. The look in his eyes was challenging, as if he dared Hamura to talk back again.

But Hamura never was able to hold his snarky tongue.

Chest still heaving, he hissed, “Sure you’re not just looking for an excuse to beat me black and blue?” His head was still ringing after being slammed onto the table.

Kuroiwa smirks, a truly unnerving image when mixed with his current violent streak, “I’ll do much worse than that, if you don’t play along.”

With that, he strikes Hamura hard across the face, lip splitting and cheek stinging. 

Another punch and then another, sure to leave bruises to match the ones on his throat.

If this continued, he really would look the part of an assault victim.

Swallowing his pride, and blood, Hamura grit his teeth. He had to just grin and bear it. He knew from the look on Kuroiwa’s face, he wasn’t getting away from this. He either committed to his acting part, or died refusing. 

There was no doubt in his mind that Kuroiwa would kill him. Their 'partnership' be damned. If Kuroiwa's interest in Hamura waned, Kuroiwa would likely get rid of him. He could be content one moment then become violent the next. Hamura thinks he does it to throw the people around him off-balance.

Hamura shut his eyes, clenching his fists and whimpered, “Stop.”

Just the right tinge of softness and vulnerability. Damnit, he’ll commit himself fully to this acting if he has to. He doesn’t much fancy dying now, especially not at Kuroiwa’s hand. If he had to do this to satisfy him, he will. It wasn't any different than all the other times Kuroiwa had fucked him, he told himself. It was just like any other time Kuroiwa had come to him.

Kuroiwa tapped his face, threateningly, “What?”

Hamura swallowed, keeping his eyes shut and pounding a fist against Kuroiwa’s chest, "Stop, you-" He clenched his fist, the fabric of Kuroiwa's jacket creasing in his grip, "You're hurting me."

“Say it louder.” Kuroiwa sneered, a vicious but small smile on his lips.

“You’re hurting me.” Hamura raised his voice slightly, giving Kuroiwa exactly what he wanted from him. His grip on Kuroiwa’s jacket tightened again, giving himself something to stay grounded.

Kuroiwa wasn’t satisfied, and he struck Hamura hard across the face again, “More!”

"Stop!" Hamura hissed, venom clear in his voice and he drove his fist into Kuroiwa's stomach, catching him off-guard. The punch was hard enough to wind Kuroiwa for a moment. He pushed himself up from his place on the desk, using the momentum to push Kuroiwa away from him. He fell back far enough for Hamura to quickly get off the table and try to make it to the blackjack on the sofa. One of Kuroiwa's favourite weapons. 

Hamura isn't stupid. He knew his punch wasn't really hard enough to hurt Kuroiwa. The bastard was playing, wanting to see how far Hamura would take his act. 

And as he thought, Kuroiwa was on him, quickly catching onto him and sending him down to the floor. Upon his back hitting the floor, Hamura’s head knocked against the table leg, adding to his already splitting headache. He had got maybe two steps before Kuroiwa got hold of him again.

Kuroiwa straddled him, keeping him trapped again. Then, Kuroiwa punched him, causing blood to leak from his nose. Another punch, and another, and another. If this continued, Kuroiwa was likely to render him unconscious and god knows what position Hamura would find himself in when he woke up.

If he woke up, that is.

Kuroiwa is unreadable. Hamura had known him for twenty years, he’d like to think he’d know Kuroiwa on some level, but no. He couldn’t claim to know what goes on inside that head. Hamura just knew when it was best to go along with Kuroiwa’s wishes, and so, he gave in.

Before Kuroiwa could punch him again, Hamura whimpered, “Please, stop.”

Kuroiwa did, his fist inches away from Hamura’s face, waiting.

Hamura knew he was waiting for him to beg again. The taste of blood in his mouth, his face swollen from that onslaught of punches, Hamura imagines he must be a real sight at the moment. He spoke again, “Please stop hurting me.”

He was making himself sick, lowering himself to this pathetic and begging state. Act or not, this was making his skin crawl. How dare Kuroiwa do this to him. How dare he force Hamura to degrade himself like this.

Kuroiwa roughly gripped Hamura’s chin, leaning in to whisper, “If you could see yourself right now, but your begging leaves much to be desired.” Despite that, he sounds amused. He’s enjoying this, “Fight back a little more.” He instructed.

Hamura smacked Kuroiwa’s hand away from his face and reached up, trying to push Kuroiwa back, “Get away from me!” He hissed. 

Kuroiwa grabbed his wrists and pinned him back down easily, but Hamura continued struggling underneath him, trying to shift Kuroiwa’s weight off his trapped legs and free his wrists. He wasn’t budging and that sinister smile was back, “That’s good, but fight harder.”

Hamura strained against the iron grip on his wrists, “Fuck you!” He yelled. 

Kuroiwa's grip on Hamura's wrists tightened dangerously, the sharp pain caused Hamura to cease his thrashing and he gritted his teeth, "Bastard.." he whispered, trying to shift his legs again, but Kuroiwa remained firm. 

"You give up so quickly, it's pathetic." Kuroiwa looked unhappy, making Hamura's stomach drop. What, is he not satisfied with Hamura's performance so far? What more does he want him to do? Scream? Cry? Beg?

"Look at how compliant you are..." Kuroiwa continued, his voice soft, but there was an underlying anger in his words. He let go of one Hamura's wrists so he could grip the top of Hamura's black shirt, then in a swift pull, he ripped the front of the shirt open, buttons flying to the sides. Hamura was about to protest when Kuroiwa moved his hand lower, undoing the belt buckle on Hamura's trousers, "While you're about to get violated by a man." Kuroiwa's hand slipped inside the now-undone trousers.

Hamura's pride was already wounded. He needed to give Kuroiwa what he wanted, if he didn't want to die. 

He quickly reached out with his free hand and tried pushing Kuroiwa away from his trousers, "No! Stop!"

“You do realise how dangerous a situation you’re in?” Kuroiwa began, “I could kill you so easily and no one would care.”

Hamura wasn’t sure if this was part of Kuroiwa’s act or if he was speaking genuinely now. Hell, he didn't actually know what kind of character Kuroiwa was emulating. Psychopathic murderer? That's probably a little too close to his actual personality. Regardless of what Kuroiwa was doing, Hamura decided that keeping to his own act of terrified victim was his best option, “No, no, please stop.”

Kuroiwa continued, “You know who I am and what happens to people who don’t keep their mouths shut.”

Hamura squirmed in Kuroiwa’s grip

“I think a reminder would be good.”


End file.
